


Take Me Back to the Stars

by snowkatze



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst and Fluff, M/M, simon gets his magic back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 17:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowkatze/pseuds/snowkatze
Summary: What happens when Simon’s magic suddenly returns? It seems unbelievable, impossible at first, but then they realize that wonders do happen.





	Take Me Back to the Stars

How can you miss something so badly you were never meant to have? How can you miss something that's created a monster? Or maybe it was the monster who created the hole. (The Mage.)

Sometimes Simon had trouble breathing. Because of the mistakes he made, because of the mayhem he caused, because of the blood and the tears and the fire.

Because of how much he had loved it. Magic. _Magic._ The word alone felt powerful on his tongue.

There was a time when Simon had been on top of the world. When he was the most powerful magician alive. Now he was not even a magician. But it wasn't the power that had drawn him to the magic; it was his safe space, the thing Simon was always able to rely on.

_And now it's gone. And it was never mine to begin with._

Sometimes Simon thought of himself as a thief who had stolen magic from others for years. And when he couldn't breathe any more, there was something else protecting him. Baz was his safe space now and he knew that Baz would never let him down. Being with Baz felt like magic to him, but it wasn't the same thing and Simon would always have to live with that guilt.

So by now Simon had come to terms with the lack of magic in his life. He had come to think, even, that perhaps this was his punishment (and it was a mere punishment at that). That didn't mean he wouldn't miss it forever, so strongly it tore his heart out every time he spared it a thought. The wonderful memory left the bitter aftertaste of the stinging truth that he would never get it back.

But maybe sometimes the universe gives mercy to the pitiful. And perhaps there was justice in the universe after all. Because even though Simon Snow himself didn't think so, he was just a boy after all, who had made some mistakes. A boy who had no control as to who he was and a boy who didn't deserve a fate like that.

So one day, when grass had finally grown over the ruins in Simon's mind and he felt at peace with himself and the world and was able to look into the future, everything around him shifted a little and he was awoken by something familiar, yet new.

_No. It can't be. Can it?  
_ Baz moved next to him, a bit drowsy. Then he sensed something in the air and sat up straight.

“Is it burning?” he asked. “Have you left the stove on or something?”

His voice alarmed and he looked around in panic, but there was nothing. It was just Simon who was glowing, radiating from warmth.

“Baz,” Simon said, voice caught up in his throat. “I can feel it.”

“What?”  
Concern glinted in Baz' eyes. But Simon was getting more sure of himself. He felt it prickling under his skin. Only really slightly, but it was still there. It was tickling him, but it was hesitant, like it was knocking on the door and asking for permission to come in.

“It...”

Simon was searching for words. He didn't want to say it. He thought, for a second, if he said it, it wouldn't be true. It would just vanish and he would think it was nothing more than a dream. If he said it out loud, it would sound silly. But as he sat beside Baz in their bed, it felt real. And it was like taking a first breath after being under water for a really long time.

Simon had been drowning for so long. Perhaps the moment had finally come where he could breathe again, live again. He knew now that he could survive without magic, that it didn't define him. But he had always felt like a part of him had been missing. A gaping hole inside his heart.  _A hole doesn't want to get bigger. It wants to be filled._

Baz softly grabbed Simon's hand to soothe him.  
Simon's thoughts started racing. _What does this mean? Am I dreaming? Have I gone crazy? Or maybe – can it really be? Is it true – is? Have I? But- no. This is not- is it? It feels the same, but so different. Is it back? But if that's really true, does that mean the humdrum is back? Am I destroying things again? If so, I have to get rid of this as quickly as possible. I can't do this. I can't harm anyone. But maybe? Maybe it isn't what I think it is. It doesn't feel so powerful, so uncontrollable, like it did before. It feels just – right. Really, really right. Please, just let it be true. Just give me this._

“I think- I think my magic is coming back,” Simon said disbelievingly. Baz drew in a sharp breath.

“You mean-”

Baz carefully pressed his palm against Simon's.

“Holy shit.”

“Can you feel that?!”

“I- Yes.”

“It feels different than it used to. Do you think this means the humdrum is back? Do we have to stop him?”  
“I don't think it is. Listen, I've- I've actually thought about this for a while but didn't tell you because I didn't want you to get your hopes up, but... Remember that Penny's dad told us that the holes in the magical atmosphere had almost all filled up again? I was thinking – hoping – that when it had everywhere fully returned, it would return to you, too. And perhaps that's what this is. Maybe you're getting back now what's yours.”  
“But magic doesn't belong to me! I'm a normal. I'm not a magician.”  
“How would you know?”  
“I'm an orphan. Magicians don't give up their children because magic is too precious.”  
“But what if your parents died? What if they did? There's nothing stopping them. Anything could have happened to your parents.”  
“I don't think this is right. I don't think I'm meant to have this. I don't think I-”

Tears started rolling down Simon's cheeks and he was breaking down quietly. Inside, he exploded like a spaceship, where sound doesn't travel. But it hurt all the same.

Because just then he was admitting it to himself. It might have felt right, but that didn't mean it was.

“Simon,” Baz spoke softly. “Look at me.”  
Simon was burning on the inside because he knew that all along when he had been missing his magic, it wasn't rightful. It was his punishment.

“Look at me, please.”  
Simon was never meant to have magic in the first place. It was what he- what he-

He looked up and Baz glanced at him with determination.

“Now listen. I know what you're thinking. But you are wrong. You _deserve_ this, Simon. More than anyone. More than anything.”  
Simon wanted to look away, but Baz held him back.

“Hey. I know you, right? You can trust me. So please, Simon, trust me, when I tell you this. If I'm right, if you get your magic back, that's awesome. You are awesome. I'm here for you. This is yours, Simon. It's yours.”

And Simon's silent cries became loud ones when he pushed himself against Baz, who took him in his arms and held him tight as Simon sobbed. They sat there like that and minutes passed. Baz waited until Simon had calmed down and he felt him relax in his arms.  
“Do you want to try a spell? Just an easy one, to see if you can do it.”  
“I-”  
“Just if you feel ready.”

“I think I do.”

“Just start with a first year spell. I don't know, spell you clothing clean or something. I- I'm gonna get your wand.”

They had still kept it, hidden in the bedside drawer. Just in case.

Simon cleared his throat and pointed the wand at the dirty jacket that laid in the corner of the room.  
“ _ **Clean as a whistle**_!”

He felt the magic under his skin burning but it was a nice feeling. And the jacket appeared clean. It had worked. Simon let out a surprised laugh. It had actually worked.

“It's a miracle, Baz.”

And Baz grinned at him, widely, and hugged him again. He was happy.

_I thought I'd never stop feeling sorry for him. Because he'd lost his magic. The thing most important to him._

And together they laughed, and laughed, and laughed, because it seemed unbelievable. Like a joke. Ridiculous. Impossible. A miracle. Luck. And when did they ever get lucky?  
  


The next day, the magic felt stronger and Simon was able to do more and trickier spells. And it was all so different to the way it was before. Baz told him that he had always been frightened by Simon's power. That he had always thought he was going to burn some day. And that wasn't the case any more. Simon still wondered where the catch was. But the humdrum never appeared. The magical atmosphere seemed stable.

A week later, Simon was able to cast “ _ **Up, up, and away**_ ” on the leaves in the garden. A month later, he was able to do fifth year spells. Piece by piece, the magic came back to him and filled the hole inside of him. And it felt indeed like it belonged there.

And one day, Simon woke up and magic was a part of him again.

“Do you think you could still do it?” Baz asked him that day.

“What?”  
Nervously, Baz grabbed both of his hands and eyed Simon anxiously.

“Remember?”  
“Of course.”  
Simon squeezed Baz hands and then he tried to push.

“Can you feel that?”  
“Holy shit.”  
“Should we say it together?”  
“Okay. On the count of three.”  
“One.”  
“Two.”

“Three.”  
“ _ **Twinkle, twinkle, little star**_ **”**

They held their breath. And then, all out of a sudden, the world disappeared around them. And instead there were millions and billions of stars.

“I can't believe it, Baz. How is this still possible?”  
“Maybe it wasn't the humdrum who was responsible for this. Maybe it was you.”  
“I suppose we were always more powerful together.”  
“You know what this means?”  
“What?”  
“You and I, we belong together.”  
“I know.”  
“And you know what else? You deserve this, Simon. You deserve the universe laid out at your feet. You deserve to have magic. You deserve the world, and if I could, I would give it to you. So you can have what I _am_ able to give you. This,” he said and kissed Simon carefully. Then he placed his hand on his own heart. “And all of this.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone who feels insecure about themselves, who thinks they are not enough, who thinks it's their fault: You deserve this. You deserve to live. You deserve to be happy. You got this. I'm proud of you. Please believe in yourself.


End file.
